Unbroken Loyalty
by KateWare
Summary: Unbroken Loyalty, by KateWare author of A Broken Kiss, takes place shortly after the release of Bellamy, Finn and the others from Camp Jaha. Clarke and Anya have also escaped Mt. Weather, on the run from the Mountain Men. However, when Clarke gets captured how will the others react? [Bellamy and Clarke pairing] Please Rate and Comment!
1. Chapter 1

When Bellamy Blake was a child, his mother instilled within him a deep-rooted sense of loyalty. She told him that loyalty, above all else, is what strengthens the human spirit in the most desperate of times. Until the 100, until Clarke, Octavia had been Bellamy's priority, his world, his only friend amongst a sea of enemies. But now, he had a bigger family to worry about. Bellamy Blake was going to rescue his friends at whatever cost, even if that meant blowing up the whole goddam planet.

He once more raised his sniper rifle to eyelevel, surveying the Grounder camp through the scope. There had to be at least twenty of them guarding the main gate meaning there was three times as many on the inside. Every single one of the bastards was well armed and well armored. It would require a whole army to breach the camp.

Bellamy cursed vehemently.

"That's it, I've had enough of this bullshit. I'm going to kill every last one of them." Finn, suddenly making an appearance, grabbed the rifle out of Bellamy's hands. The love-stuck son of a bitch finally went over the deep end. Although, Bellamy suspected the idiot fell overboard the moment he was born.

"Are you crazy?" he hissed and pulled Finn back into the dirt. "Being a martyr isn't going to save Clarke!"

Finn wrestled out of Bellamy's grip, still holding the gun. His eyes were wild, red with passion and rage. It was Finn's primal look of hunger that made Bellamy take a step back. He may be bold, but Bellamy wasn't stupid, he knew when to back off an impulsive, revenge driven man.

"Put the gun down Finn." he instructed, his voice low and authoritative. Finn scrambled backwards on his legs, the sniper rifle raised and pointed at Bellamy. With noise carrying like it did, Bellamy just hoped that the idiot had enough sense to keep quiet.

"You know we have to go in there Bellamy." Finn said. He slowly lowered the gun and crawled back up the hill. He raised it and studied the entrance.

Bellamy shook his head. "Not like this." he said, coming to rest beside Finn. "Not without a plan." He nervously watched as Finn's finger hovered above the trigger, moving backwards and forwards across the warmed metal.

"Since when did Bellamy Blake have a plan?" he said, indignant.

Now that – that was a good question.

"I wouldn't expect a Spacewalker to understand, but I have people to lead and therefore a job that requires certain responsibilities." Bellamy snapped, only slightly annoyed. He glanced over at Finn who still held the sniper rifle at eye level. Apparently his outburst of blind rage had passed. Still, his wandering fingers made Bellamy anxious.

He resigned the act of confiscating the gun and resorted to lying on his back, staring up at the tree canopy. They had been staked out here for a good three days now and there had been no significant movement. Bellamy began to wonder if Murphy had led them on a wild goose chase. He shut his eyes at the thought and immediately Clarke's image appeared before him, her blonde hair mangled. The exasperated expression on her face made Bellamy's stomach tighten with worry.

Where was she? Where were_ they_?

"Bellamy!" Finn's voice was urgent and full of excitement, "Bellamy!"

"What is it?" he asked, his voice flat and emotionless. He threw an arm over his eyes. Honestly, did he ever shut up?

"Clarke! It's Clarke!"

Bellamy rolled onto his chest and had the rifle in his hands in mere seconds. But he didn't need the scope to see that it was Clarke. He could tell it was her by the way she walked, the way she held herself, the way she looked defiantly at every Grounder she passed. Her hands were bound behind her back and her captor shoved her viciously whenever Clarke stumbled. Bellamy growled.

"Who is she with?" Bellamy demanded, his gun already pointed at the back of the female Grounder. Every fiber of his being sparked with energy and his vision became crystalline.

"Anya, their female leader. She's the one that forced Clarke to save one of her people." Finn added, his mannerisms impatient. "We need to…"

"Stop!" Bellamy barked. It took all his will power to drag his gaze away from Clarke and onto Finn. "Now I want to rescue her as much as you, but it won't do us any good if we run in there and get _ourselves_ captured."

"We wait for Murphy, Sterling and Monroe." he added, ending the discussion. He looked back down at Clarke and Anya. It appeared as though there was some argument about letting them pass inside. Anya was speaking loudly in Grounder tongue and motioning towards Clarke who was making a valiant effort to escape her hold. When the other Grounders shook their heads and grunted, Anya partly shoved, partly threw Clarke to the ground.

Bellamy nearly jumped up, going against his earlier warnings, and was about to go tear that bitch apart. A primal protectiveness consumed his body and mind. He wanted nothing more than to see Clarke safe and unscathed. Finn slammed Bellamy back onto the ground, grasping him by the shirt.

"For a leader, you don't follow your own advice very well." Finn pointed out.

"Thanks for the memo." he replied through gritted teeth and watched helplessly as the Grounders finally let Anya and Clarke through the gates. Clarke was hoisted up by the female Grounder and practically dragged inside. They both heard the gates shut with a resounded slam, sealing Clarke to an unknown fate.

"We're getting them out _tonight_." Bellamy glowered, looking at Finn. "And I have an idea."


	2. Chapter 2

Bellamy fidgeted with the gun in his hands. He was anxious and worried about Clarke. He knew, perfectly well, that Clarke could handle herself – he knew that. Still, he worried over whether or not they were harming her, harming the rest of their people. He had become much more than a janitor since arriving on Earth. The weight of leadership was a heavy burden to bear. Bellamy had learned many things: responsibility, courage and patience, though he was still working on the latter.

And Finn was testing it mercilessly.

"We are wasting time! We need to go in now, kill the bastards and rescue Clarke and the others before it's too late." he spat. He raised himself off the ground and began to pace back and forth, kicking up rocks and dirt in frustration.

Bellamy and Murphy shared a knowing look.

"Clarke can take care of herself," Bellamy retorted. "And besides, she might have a plan in mind that doesn't include us."

Finn threw up his hands and continued to pace.

What a dramatic son of a bitch.

"You're the one that wanted to storm in there after she was hauled inside!" he hissed. Murphy turned to Finn and shushed him. Spacewalker glared back. "And since when are we giving guns to murders instead of people who can be trusted?"

"For the recorded I didn't _murder_ anyone." Murphy snarled.

"And attempted murder is any better?" Finn shot back. Murphy was about to get up off his stomach and punch Finn when Bellamy laid a hand on his back, shoving him back in the dirt. He gave him a hard look and was met with hateful eyes.

"Stay out of this Blake." Murphy threatened, struggling against Bellamy's hold.

"Shut the hell up – both of you," he barked, his tone authoritative. "Look, Clarke wouldn't get herself captured without putting up a fight. When she walked with Anya towards that camp she was walking with purpose. I know Clarke and I know that she is smart enough to save herself."

Bellamy noticed Finn bristle when he mentioned knowing Clarke. He grinned, raising his scope to eyelevel then dropping it again.

"I sent Monroe and Sterling on reconnaissance. Monroe found a way to easily infiltrate the camp." he added.

There was a moment of brief silence. An unsettling calm reverberated through the forest. However, the ground seemed to hum with an unsuppressed energy. All three of them – Bellamy, Finn and Murphy – were staring at one another, waiting for one of them to snap with bated breath.

"This is bullshit and _you_ know it. No one enters a Grounder camp and survives." Finn said, his voice dangerously level.

And he walked off into the darkening forest.

**. . .**

A piercing scream awoke Bellamy from a deep sleep.

His hands immediately went to his gun and his eyes were trained on the Grounder camp within seconds. He must have dozed off after Finn returned from one of his late night dalliances. The Grounder camp suddenly came alive with shouting and bright flames. Explosions erupted into a cacophony of intense light and heat.

The camp was on fire – and it was spreading quickly.

The flames reached towards the sky, appearing to lick the blackened night with hot, golden hues. It was as if the sun was yanked back into being and forced to radiate light over the Earth. The huts were highly flammable and quickly turning to ash. More screams bombarded the night. Panicked men, women and children spilled out into the forest – all of them Grounders.

Bellamy cursed and pushed himself onto his feet. Where was she? Where were the others? Before he even realized what he was doing, he was on his feet and racing towards the enflamed camp. The screaming and crying became more deafening the closer he got. No one stopped him as he shoved his way closer. The ones who had initially tried to quell the fire were now joining the others, their heads hung in defeat.

"Bellamy!" someone shouted from the tree line. He ignored the call and burst into the camp. The smell is what hit him first – the smell of burning flesh and wood. He raised his arm to his mouth and tried to breath as little as possible. The stench was stomach churning. The heat and ash burned his eyes, making them water.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement – people racing towards the back of the Grounder camp, only they weren't Grounders.

They were his people.

Bellamy sprinted after them, coughing due to the increasing soot building up in his lungs. He caught up with one of them and grabbed the kid's arm. The boy panicked and spun around. He was no older than fifteen. His eyes widened when he realized who it was.

"Bellamy?" his voice was weak.

"Where are the others?" Bellamy shouted, the fire roaring and splintering in the background. Houses and huts were collapsing.

The boy put Bellamy's hand on his shoulder and motioned for him to follow. They ran through the camp and ducked under a wall that, surprisingly, wasn't on fire. Escaping into the forest, they didn't stop running until they reached the river. The boy collapsed on the ground coughing and wheezing. Bellamy had to steady himself against a tree and attempted to rid himself of soot.

"Will? Is that you?" called a male voice rounding the tree line. Will stood up off the ground and embraced the newcomer. When the boy stepped away from Will, he glanced over and noticed Bellamy.

"Bellamy Blake?" he asked, more of a statement than a question.

"Sam, he was looking for the rest of us." Will said, looking up at the older boy.

Sam waved Bellamy over and led them towards the river. The rest of the 100, at least half of them were here. They all looked over when Sam and Will approached, smiling despite the injuries some of them sustained.

Then – they noticed Bellamy and almost immediately they all started cheering. Those that could, stood and raced towards him, telling him about what happened, asking him about where he was this entire time. He greeted each and every one. A smile plastered across his face. Each time he saw a tuft of blonde hair he would get excited, only to be disappointed when it wasn't Clarke.

When the crowd finally dispersed, a girl, with her back towards Bellamy, leaning over a child with cuts across her face, stood and glanced over her shoulder. Her mouth formed an O when she registered his face. The long blonde hair that clung to her neck and face was whisked away by the wind and her clothes clung to her small frame, drenched with sweat. She had cuts and bruises of her own marring her body.

Clarke never looked more beautiful.


End file.
